by Tony Dayoub
The initial run of MGM Limited Edition's manufactured-on-demand (MOD) DVDs (which I reviewed for Wide Screen a few months ago)—a shoddy product made by Amazon.com subsidiary CreateSpace—made a lot of customers unhappy. In my earlier review I said the "line feels like the chintziest of all of the MOD collections, which is a shame considering it carries some of the most interesting titles..." Since then, MGM has switched to Allied Vaughn (which also manufactures Warner Archive's MODs) in order to fulfill their orders. Though problems reportedly continue here and there (you can read the ins and outs of this transition at DVD Talk), I am much happier with the resulting product, which now includes a rudimentary menu, and the occasional special feature. After the jump I review a small sample from this latest batch.
Showing posts with label Samuel Fuller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Samuel Fuller. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Underrated: Constance Towers
by Tony Dayoub
A stunning blond prostitute is engaged in a fight with her procurer, what we'd call a pimp nowadays. She slaps him about with her handbag, as he, half-drunk, staggers backwards with each blow to his face. The scene unfolds in a series of alternating point-of-view shots, the camera (and by extension, the viewer) by turns leering at the scumbag and knocked around by the hooker's purse. Then, something shocking occurs. In all the commotion, this woman flips her wig... literally. Her hair falls to the ground leaving a bald snarling Fury in the woman's place, any measure of civility that may have existed quickly vanishing from her as she finally brings the pimp down to the floor. Straddling him, she takes money owed to her—and no more—from the groaning worm. She stands, looks straight into the camera as she dons her wig again, and straightens it forcefully as the film's title card flashes onscreen: The Naked Kiss (1964).
A stunning blond prostitute is engaged in a fight with her procurer, what we'd call a pimp nowadays. She slaps him about with her handbag, as he, half-drunk, staggers backwards with each blow to his face. The scene unfolds in a series of alternating point-of-view shots, the camera (and by extension, the viewer) by turns leering at the scumbag and knocked around by the hooker's purse. Then, something shocking occurs. In all the commotion, this woman flips her wig... literally. Her hair falls to the ground leaving a bald snarling Fury in the woman's place, any measure of civility that may have existed quickly vanishing from her as she finally brings the pimp down to the floor. Straddling him, she takes money owed to her—and no more—from the groaning worm. She stands, looks straight into the camera as she dons her wig again, and straightens it forcefully as the film's title card flashes onscreen: The Naked Kiss (1964).
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